A Hero's Hero
by Alexiel15
Summary: One rainy night, Robin and the gang return to camp only to find it ransacked. With the sheriff's men lurking around every corner, where can they go?


A Hero's Hero

The afternoon sun blazed over the fields of England, shedding its golden rays over the lush grasses. It was the prime of summer and the men of Sherwood Forest were enjoying a break from running from the sheriff's men. They laid or sat among the sweet smelling grass, watching the increasing clouds as they made their way westward. A storm was coming from the east, but they had built a sturdy shelter the day before and were more than prepared for the steady rains that came with the season. Everyone looked relaxed and pleased with themselves. All that is, except their leader. Robin of Locksley, now known as Robin Hood by both enemies and friends, had been strangely quiet and antisocial even after their latest rescue. They had never known Robin to be weary since he had always given strength to them when it seemed no hope was in sight. Now, as his men chatted on and seemed content, Robin was out of sorts. His recent encounter with the old sheriff's daughter, the beautiful Marian, had left him stunned, for he had found out there was another man wooing his precious lady. Robin had never liked Sir Guy of Gisborne, but it seemed Marian had taken a liking to him in his absence. Robin was no longer a lord of Locksley and had lost his chance at winning the fair lady's heart. He learned that Guy had given her a gift, not something of gold or jewels, but a silver necklace he had stolen from a poor girl planning to be wed. But when it along with valuable information reached Robin, Guy searched for the traitor, only to find it had been Marion all along. Upon the retrieval of the necklace (courtesy of Robin), he apologized, asking for her hand in marriage in order to protect her from the sheriff's wrath. Hastily she accepted, but broke her faithful outlaw's heart in the same breath. Surely she didn't have feelings for him? Robin banished the unwelcome thought and stood up as he noticed the light was fading.

"You all right, Robin?" Will Scarlett asked. "You've been awfully quiet today."

Robin hid his moment of weakness with a smile, as he had always done.

"I've just been thinking of all the good we've done," he said as he looked around the field and the tiny village that bordered it. " No one has been hung in a week. The husbands have enough money to trade, the wives are content knowing their families are safe from harm, and the children are snug in their beds. I think that's cause for reflection."

"You know what else is cause for reflection?" Much grumbled as he stood up. "What we're to have for dinner."

The men laughed, well used to the man's constant desire for food.

"We've got something at camp, you idiot," Little John chuckled. "Or do you not remember those fine hares we captured this afternoon?"

Much flashed him an annoyed look as the men began to gather their grazing horses and mount them. The wind had picked up, the incoming clouds dousing the last of the sunset. Eager to seek shelter and fill their bellies, they sent their beasts into a trot, soon disappearing into the emerald trees.

Rain fell in sheets. Since they had spent the afternoon on the outskirts of the village of Nettlestone, it was a long trek back to camp, which was deep in the thick brush of Sherwood Forest. Their hoods were donned when the first fat drops fell, but they were soaked through within moments. Most of the gang wore sleeveless tunics against the heat of the day, but it seemed Robin was having the worst time. He kept a brave face as they trudged through the soaked woods, but he felt like his body on fire, though goosebumps crawled on his skin. After about twenty minutes of riding aimlessly through the dark, they approached their camp, or what was their camp. The 'sturdy shelter' had been reduced to splinters and rags. What little food they had acquired was gone. The men dismounted as if a weight had been put on their shoulders. Robin staggered slightly as a wave of nausea swept over him, but the concern for the destruction of their home easily dominated over his physical condition.

"What…" Much sputtered hopelessly. "What in the name of everything that is good happened here?!"

Will and the others sifted around the small area, seeing what they could salvage. Robin shook his head.

"The sheriff's been here," he said, though there was no reason to voice it. "But how he found where it was I can't figure out."

"Another spy?" Djaq asked, prodding one of her boots at a discarded pot.

"They must have rode through the forest while we were away," Little John decided.

"That can't be all there is," Will said. "I mean, this forest is too big, even for the sheriff."

"We got cocky," Robin said bluntly. "We stayed out there too long and allowed him to find our camp without any interference. Someone must have seen us in the field, someone in disguise so we wouldn't be alerted."

He set his curved bow down, suddenly more weary than he realized. How could he let this happen? Had he been watchful instead of floating in his thoughts, he could have caught the spy and done away with him. Now he and his men stood drenched in the middle of the forest with no shelter and hardly anything to eat. If only his head would stop spinning! The haze increased and he blinked to try to clear it, but to no avail. His body began to sway, his grip loosening on his bow. With an exhale, he fell to the ground, his vision finally going black.

"Robin?" Much asked, concern raising his voice a few octaves. The gang looked towards their comrade, only to find Robin unconscious on the forest floor. They rushed around him, kneeling to better investigate. Djaq took the initiative, placing a dark hand over his forehead.

"He's burning up," she said, astonished. There had been no way of knowing their leader was ill, so good was he in keeping up appearances. On the verge of panic, Much looked to her with wide eyes.

"Surely there's something you can do," he said with a slight squeak. "Like you did with John in the mine. You can help Robin with one of your herbs or something."

Djaq shook her head. "Even if I found what I needed, I would need boiling water to get them to work. We'll have no chance on building a fire if this rain doesn't let up."

The gang looked worriedly at each other from under their soaked hoods, Much looking down at his unconscious master. There was no sanctuary nearby, for the sheriff's guard would no doubt be watching at every end of the forest. There was no way to reach safety without being seen. A silent moment passed, the pouring of the rain dousing their spirits with every drop.

"Marian."

It was young Will who spoke, his eyes hopeful.

"What?" Little John asked, surprised at the lad's boldness.

"Lady Marian. Surely Gisborne would call off the guards around her house. She is to be his lady after all."

The rest of them thought a moment, considering. She and her father were allies of theirs, and now was as good of a time as any to test their loyalty.

"Right then," Little John said, nodding. "We're to head to Knighton Hall. I'll take care of Robin. The rest of ya mount and make sure the road is clear."

Pleased to finally have a plan, the gang stood. Little John lifted Robin onto his back, carrying him to the horse that awaited him. Much hurried to tie his master's horse to his own, mounting and motioning for Little John to hoist Robin before him. He fought down the panic that bubbled within him as his master slumped against him. If anyone could help Robin, it had to be Marian. If for any reason she turned them away, all hope would truly be lost.

Marian sat by her window, watching as the rain fell to the ground. It was a chilly night, but her room felt so stifling she opened the wooden shutters, allowing the smell of fresh rain to fill the small space. She loved the rain, for it resembled a new beginning, the water cleansing the earth for another day. For only a moment everything was clean; everything would be washed and renewed and the right path would become clear. She sighed. If only her life could be this simple. Since her hurried engagement, she had a nagging feeling that it wasn't just Robin she had hurt when she accepted. Though he was an arrogant and sometimes selfish man, she felt something for him. Every morning she had waited anxiously by the window, hoping to see his smug face looking up at her. She would kick herself after finding his usual perch vacant, scolding herself for thinking he would come back to her, that she had feelings for him at all. Turning to the mirror, she ran her hand over the back of her head, remembering her recent suffering as she felt her shortened hair. Hair was just hair of course, but that public humiliation had tested her like nothing else had. She thought she was invincible, not just as herself, but as the notorious Night Watchman. Standing on the scaffold while her ebony locks fell to the ground told her otherwise. She had to be more careful about how she spoke from now on, keeping the naive maiden facade up to keep her secret (and her neck) safe. Her thoughts were disrupted when a sudden burst of noise broke through the steady pound of rain.

"Marian! Marian, are you there?"

She spun around and rushed to the window, hoping to see Robin bounding onto her roof and saying that he had forgiven her. What she saw was much worse. Much was looking earnestly at her, her beloved Robin slung over his chest. At another glance, she saw the rest of his men gathered in the shimmering haze.

"Please," Much called. "My master…. he is ill. The sheriff destroyed our camp. We have nowhere to go."

"Here now, what's all this?"

It was Marian's father, Edward, who had heard the commotion.

"Forgive the disturbance, my lord," Allan A Dale said hastily. "But Guy and his men are right behind us. Please, sir…you must help us."

Marian turned to her father, pleading. "Father, we can't let them be captured. If they have Robin, then there is no hope for the people. Not even the Night Watchman can see to them all."

Edward was no fool. He and his daughter would be hanged for helping outlaws, but the people would be worse off if Robin was killed. He gave a curt nod and acknowledged the men.

"Hide yourselves and the horses in the barn. And keep quiet! If Gisborne finds you here there'll be the devil to pay."

Marian motioned to Much as her father disappeared. "Bring him inside. Quickly!"

The men wasted no time in following orders, for they knew what was at stake. Little John lifted Robin from the horse as Much dismounted and led the beasts to the barn. Marian opened the door and ushered them in, stifling a gasp when she glanced at the man in Little John's arms. Robin's face was flushed, grimacing in discomfort as his body burned with fever.

"Take him to the room on the left upstairs. Hurry."

Little John nodded. "Thank you my lady," he panted.

Marian gave a little smile and rested her hand on his shoulder. He grunted and shifted Robin's weight in his arms before trudging up the stairs, Much in toe. Djaq approached her as she watched them ascend.

"I need access to your kitchen so I can make something for Robin to recover."

Edward, who was standing by the opposite door, gave a quick noise and motioned for her to follow him into another part of the house. No sooner had they disappeared than a sharp knock sounded at the door. Marian gasped at the sound, then realized she would have to play the part of a calm, innocent woman while chaos was going on elsewhere. She straightened her clothes, cursing herself for deciding to retire early. Well perhaps it was better that way. With a final sweep of her hair, she unbolted the door and opened it.

Naturally, a dark-haired man greeted her, his hair and leather jacket glistening in the rain.

"Good evening, Marian," he said smoothly. "I was in the area and I wanted to see how you were fairing on this wretched night."

She flashed him a polite smile. " I am well, Sir Guy, thank you. This weather is making me cheerless so I thought I might retire early."

Guy took an unconscious step forward. "Well perhaps I could offer you some company."

"No!" Marian said a little too sharply. Guy blinked, taken aback. She softened her reply.

"Forgive me," she apologized. "My weariness is speaking of its own accord. Tonight seems to be a bad night for me."

She bent her head to give him the impression she was truly unwell. He took the bait.

"Forgive me, Marian," he said as she looked up. "I didn't mean to cause you more distress. Perhaps I should call when it is more convenient for you."

She smiled calmly, but her heart beat furiously in her chest. Oh, if only he would leave!

"Thank you for you understanding, my lord. I am sure I will be in better humor by tomorrow."

He nodded, satisfied. "Then I shall bid you goodnight, Lady Marian." With another incline of his head, he turned on his heel and re-entered the rain, mounting his horse and leading his men out. As Marian closed the door, she heaved a sigh of relief. _Thank God _she thought. She turned and eyed the stairs. One of the dangers had passed for now, but a greater one still remained. Robin was ill and his men were seeking refuge in her father's house. If luck was with them, he would recover and they would be out of sight by the time her fiancé returned.

The trek up the small stair was a slow one, but Marian eventually climbed up to the top, a heap of blankets and a cup of hot tea mixed with some of Djaq's herbs in her arms. The room she entered was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the tapping of the rain on the roof. Extra logs were placed into the flames, sending the room near boiling point. Robin lay on the bed in the far corner, sweating and stirring restlessly under the blankets. Little John and Much watched their leader intently, their eyes snapping to hers upon entry.

"How is he?" she managed, stepping forward.

Much shook his head. "This is just like it was in the Holy Land," he said miserably. "After taking that wound from a Saracen sword. I thought surely he would die from it. I prayed and fasted for three days straight. Now I'm beginning to think I should've saved my prayers for later."

"He's not going to die, Much," Little John said forcefully, but he lifted anxious eyes to Marian.

"He took no wound," she said in an effort to comfort them. "He is healthy and strong. "He'll make it through just fine." She offered a glimmer of a smile as she set her things down. "The best thing you can do right now is rest and get yourselves something to eat. I'll take care of things here."

Marian assured them she would fetch them if there was any change, and after a minute's persuasion, they nodded and left to seek some nourishment. She closed the door behind them and looked at her lover. He was drenched in sweat, his brownish hair matted to his forehead. He continued to stir, as if mangled in some horrid dream. She walked slowly towards him and sat on the bed, caressing his warm brow.

"Robin," she whispered. "Robin can you hear me?"

Her words seemed to resurrect him, for he inhaled and his eyelids fluttered, trying to find her face in the gloom.

"Marian," he murmured. He felt a cool finger pressing against his lips, hushing him.

"It's all right," she soothed. "You're at Knighton Hall. You're safe."

As the fog of fever-induced sleep began to fade, he opened his eyes further, a realization hitting him as his vision cleared.

"My men…" he said. He began to get up but Marian firmly pushed him back down.

"Are downstairs," she finished. "You need to lie still. You've got a high fever."

Robin obeyed as his head began to spin. He laid back down among the pillows, his eyes half-closed.

"Has anyone ever told you you're too persuasive for your own good?" he asked, a ghost of his old humor re-surfacing.

She was quick to parry his blow. "Has anyone ever told _you _you're too proud for _your _own good? What were you thinking, running about in the rain like some foolish child? The last thing these people need is for the sheriff to take advantage of the weakened Robin Hood. They won't survive if there is no one to protect them."

Robin smiled at her scolding, though it looked more like a grimace. He watched her steadily as she rose and walked to the table where the tea sat. She swiftly picked it up and sat at his side once more.

"Drink this," she advised. "Djaq says it'll cool your fever and help you sleep."

Robin eyed her suspiciously. Marian rolled her eyes.

"It's not poison, you fool. If I wanted to kill you I would've done it a long time ago."

He gave his smug smile but allowed her to lift his head so that he could drink the warm liquid. The taste was strong, no doubt filled with ingredients he could hardly pronounce. When he was satisfied, Marian lifted the cup from his lips and placed it on the table once more. Already Robin could feel the tea running its course, his eyes getting heavier by the second. He struggled against its power, but Marian was quick to reassure him.

"Sleep, Robin," she whispered, leaning into him. "You need to rest."

She reached out her hand and stroked his face, feeling the stubble beneath her fingers. Her cool hands seemed to soothe him, for he closed his eyes and after a few moments his deep breathing assured her he was indeed asleep. She made her way back to the table, ringing out a linen cloth from the glass basin. She proceeded to caress his forehead, moving the hair away from his eyes with delicate fingers. Seeing as she would never get the chance while he was conscious, she looked him over, taking in every detail. His face was handsome, most of it hidden by his growing beard. Though his features were gentle, they also reflected the years of battle and hardship he experienced in the Holy Land. As her gaze traveled down, she remembered the wound he had taken during the war, now a vicious scar he would carry with him for the rest of his life. She looked back to his sleeping face, watching with interest as his brow smoothed out.

"Oh Robin," she whispered, her voice filled with longing. "My love. May you have nothing but pleasant dreams tonight."

But it was not to be. Instead his mind was filled with images from the past, a living nightmare he swore he would never re-live again.

The sun blazed in the cerulean sky, setting the golden desert aflame. Black smoke birthed by many fires billowed into the air, choking the light. Robin stood in the center of it all, crying with fury as he slashed one Saracen and then another. He saw only dark skin and strange garments, nothing more. Her felt no pity for them as they lie dieing at his feet, blood gushing from their wounds. This time it was different. He saw the frightened eyes of men way too young to be at war, he heard the screams of the women who had become widows or had lost their sons. They shrieked in his ears until he staggered, overwhelmed by their grief. He stumbled and fell, the hot sand blistering his exposed skin. He looked up as a shadow passed over him. It was no nameless Saracen, but Gisborne, his cold eyes glittering with triumph. He chuckled as a gloved hand came down, the screams becoming louder and louder…

Robin jerked awake, grabbing the hand in one swift motion. The image of a victorious Gisborne faded, only to be replaced by a startled Marian, her arm caught in his fist. Breathing heavily, he slowly let go, his eyes darting around anxiously. He was once again in Marian's room in Knighton Hall, the fire crackling contently in the fireplace. As heat and discomfort returned, he lied back down, the images still fresh in his mind. Marian rubbed her wrist, watching him. He had been stirring for the past few minutes, his face contorted in pain and anguish. In an effort to relieve him of his nightmare, she called out to him, leaning closer as she did so. She was therefore surprised when he jolted back to consciousness, grabbing her hand with a ferocity that scared her.

"What did you see?" she asked gently when his breathing had calmed.

Robin grimaced, looking everywhere but in her eyes. The things he witnessed were too gruesome to hear and he didn't want to burden her with his troubles. She wouldn't understand, couldn't understand. He risked a glance into her eyes, and what he saw surprised him. The stubborn and standoffish Marian had faded, leaving a gentle and compassionate woman in its wake. She was reaching out to him, something he had tried to do for months. For once it was she who wanted to indulge in who he was, whatever faults there may be. He gave up with a sigh.

"I was back in the Holy Land," he whispered. "Fighting like I had nothing to lose. I struck down men without a second thought. But they were hardly men at all." He gulped. "They were boys, boys forced into a world they shouldn't even think about. Someone's brother, someone's son or husband. I had no pity for them. All I knew was war and hatred."

His throat tightened as the images came flooding back. Without thinking, he weakly lifted his hand, which Marian promptly grasped.

"You're a good man, Robin," she comforted. "War cannot change that. You're home now, doing so much good for the people who need it. The king will reward you when he returns."

She realized her mistake as soon as she spoke. He refused to meet her eyes, the reminder of her engagement striking a nerve. He loosened his grip on her hand, the moment between them broken.

"Robin," she started.

"Do you love him?" he asked bluntly, looking into her eyes at last. She looked away briefly, struggling to form an answer.

"I…I don't dislike him," she stuttered. "And he…he promised security and protection from the sheriff. If marrying him means keeping my father and I safe from the hangman's noose, then so be it."

"So you'd sacrifice your own happiness?" he asked sharply.

"Oh and you think you know what would make me happy?" she snapped, her anger flaring. "Perhaps I'll run about and stick my neck out in places it doesn't belong!"

Robin lifted his head, his eyes blazing.

"And you don't think you're doing the same thing as the Night Watchman?" he asked incredulously. "I guess I have to worry about my reputation, seeing as you're becoming just as popular these days!"

"You're impossible!" she gasped, standing. She took a couple steps toward the fireplace then rounded on her heel, crossing her arms roughly. The commotion must have alerted the gang downstairs, for within moments Djaq walked into the room.

"What on earth is going on here?" she demanded, her dark eyes flitting from Robin to Marian. Marian looked away, shifting from foot to foot.

"We were," she started, fumbling for words. "Talking."

Djaq scoffed as she moved towards Robin. "If that was a talk, I'd like to see what a fight sounds like."

Robin breathed more heavily, the loss of adrenaline leaving him weaker than before. He slumped back onto the bed as Djaq came forward, feeling his burning cheeks and forehead.

"Well there will be no more of that," she decided. "If Robin is to recover by morning, he needs to rest and it's not going to happen so long as you two are arguing." She turned away from the bed only to grab the fresh tea she had made.

"Drink," she said to Robin. You need to sleep."

She lifted his head and brought the warm liquid to his lips. All the while he watched Marian, the glow of anger still on her cheeks. He always loved to tease her and see the fire in her eyes, a quality he seldom saw in other women. Djaq eventually left, leaving them alone once more. He gazed at her until he could no longer fight the effects of the brew. At last, when she was sure he was asleep, Marian ventured closer. She sat on the bed again, watching as his breathing deepened.

"Oh Robin," she whispered, shaking her head. "What am I to do with you?"

In time, the darkness began to fade, taking the hellish nightmare along with it. Birds sang in the trees, rejoicing in the return of blue sky. The earth held its breath, waiting for the sun to make her grand entrance. As the sky lightened, it filled into Marian's bedchamber, revealing a young man sleeping in the large bed. As consciousness stirred, Robin took note of every part of his body as he became aware of it. First came the tips of his toes, then his feet and legs, warmed under the heavy blankets. His torso was bare, for he could feel the smooth linen gliding over his skin. Next came his long arms, one hanging lazily over the edge of the bed while the other was draped across his chest. Below his fingers he felt the course wool of the blanket and, below that, the slow, steady beat of his heart. His breath came clear and strong, all traces of discomfort gone. As the fog of sleep faded, he opened his eyes. As the light became stronger, he could make out more and more of the room in which he currently resided and, consequently, the woman who inhabited it. Curled under a blanket in the chair opposite him was Marian, her face leaning toward the open window. The increasing light illuminated her sleeping face, an image of serenity that he seldom saw in the fiery woman he knew so well. She was always on her guard, protecting herself for fear of getting hurt. He had hurt her when he decided to go to the Holy Land five years ago, and by the looks of things, she was far from forgiving him. He shoved Guy of Gisborne to the back his mind. As angry as she was with him, he knew Marian wouldn't willingly accept a marriage to one such as Gisborne. She wouldn't marry him, for a part of Robin still believed her heart belonged to him. He was pulled out of his thoughts when she finally stirred, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. Her beautiful eyes fluttered open, immediately surprised by the eyes staring back at her.

"Good morning," he said, a smile drifting across his lips.

Caught off-guard, she looked around a moment, feeling awkward in his presence. She cursed herself. She _always _felt awkward around him. It seemed the harder she tried to ignore it, the more evident it became. She hid her moment of embarrassment by standing and setting the blanket across the back of the chair. When she was confident she had her emotions under control, she turned around and approached the bed. With the slightest of hesitations, she pressed her hand to his forehead. She smiled with relief.

"It seems those potions did their work," she observed. "How do you feel?"

He slowly sat up, propping himself on his elbows. "Honestly?" His usual smirk of arrogance played at the corners of his mouth. "I feel as though I could take on all of Gisobrne's men single-handedly."

Marian rolled her eyes. "I'd like to see how far you get without any food in your stomach," she said, standing. "I'll find you something to eat and tell your men you've survived."

He chuckled. "And to whom am I to give the credit?"

She looked over her shoulder, smirking. " To Djaq, of course."

Naturally, the men were beyond thrilled to hear their leader had recovered. But there was little time to celebrate. Gisborne would be returning to the manor in a matter of hours and they had to be well out of sight by then. As the sun gained height, Robin seemed to gain strength. His appetite restored, he gulped down countless bowls of broth and engulfed many loafs of bread and cheese. He donned his shirt and hooded tunic once more and descended the stairs, leaning slightly on the rail. Much embraced him with fervor.

"Thank God," he said with a tremor to his voice.

Robin chuckled and released his friend. After reassuring his men that he was indeed all right, they moved to the stables to gather the horses. Robin inhaled deeply as he glanced at the beautiful countryside. He felt a new lightness about him; a thrill of rejuvenation shot through him as he gripped his bow once again, as he set the quiver of arrows upon his shoulders. The horrors of the night before had vanished, and though he was grateful for Djaq's help, he owed his recovery, both body and soul, to Marian. She stood in the halo of the stable doorway, wearing a white dress with sleeves trimmed in fur, no doubt an appearance for Gisobrne. In that moment, when she glanced his way, he took a chance. He rushed toward her, giving her little time to react. He grabbed her waist and guided her to the far wall, firmly planting his lips over hers. Clearly trapped, Marian could do little but respond to his desire, a flame of her own rekindling inside her. She returned the kiss, her fingers running through his unruly hair. If this be just a moment, a mere glimpse into what reckless abandon was like, it would be enough. As it was, it couldn't last forever. Robin reluctantly broke the kiss and released her, the stomp of hooves and the sounds of his men reminding him of the task at hand. Gisborne would be leaving Nottingham about now and would be in sight within moments. They gazed at each other, blue staring into blue.

"I have to go," he said.

Marian gulped. Why did it always have to come to this? "I know," she managed.

He took a step back and headed out of the stable, not looking back for fear his face would betray him. Likewise, Marian turned away from the door. The reality of their situation crashed down upon her, and a few tears fell silently down her cheeks.

She did not see Robin leave, but heard the pounding of hooves as he and his gang disappeared into the forest to fight another day. No sooner had the dust settled than Gisborne and a small legion of his men could be seen riding up the hill, her future husband leading the way. She wiped the tears from her eyes and put on the maiden's facade once more. Straitening her gown, she walked into the morning light. Guy dismounted, though confused to find her in the stables rather than in the house. He approached her and lifted her hand to his lips. She struggled not to flinch.

"Good morning, Marian," he said. "I trust you are in better spirits today?"

"Yes, my lord," she replied, looking up at him. "It's so beautiful this morning and I was just about to ride out and greet you."

Guy found it odd that she had answered his inquiry without him asking, but brushed it aside.

"Shall we go in?" he asked, offering his arm. She forced a smile onto her face and took it, shoving Robin to the back of her mind. But as Guy escorted her back into the house, she couldn't help but glance toward the forest, hoping to see her beloved outlaw among the emerald trees.


End file.
